


rage, rage against the dying of the light

by aromaalibro



Category: The Boys (TV 2019)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Character Study, Coming of Age, Drama, Friendship/Love, Gen, Light Angst, Minor Character Death, Self-Discovery, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-30
Updated: 2020-06-30
Packaged: 2021-03-04 07:34:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24989878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aromaalibro/pseuds/aromaalibro
Summary: “you were born to be a hero” butcher admitted while lighting up a cigarette “be glad you just ain’t one.”fighting vought’s empire is hopeless when she is a human against those that were chosen. and yet annie tries, confusing as her past and present choices are. because what does it even mean to be a hero, when the word is only bitterness in one’s mouth?
Kudos: 7





	rage, rage against the dying of the light

**Author's Note:**

> plot what is plot.
> 
> title from: ‘Do not go gentle into that good night’ from Dylan Thomas. 
> 
> this is a character study of annie as if she had been brought up as a normal human, during the boys timeline. i will not even try to replicate the tone of the tv series because i would fail spectacularly, so expect mostly drama and internal conflicts.

annie felt like giving up, right there, in the middle of the floor.

but she stood up, knowing there was no one else to clean the mess the vomiting customer had left on the floor. it didn't matter if she had 'saved' him, those around her still snickered looking at her ruined apron and her beat-up face. she swore she had seen camera flashes her way. she took a deep breath and found the strength to make her way to the bathroom. her bruises on her leg, for when she fell, looked awful, but not as much as her face and dirty clothes looked like. there was even meatball sauce in her trousers. clenching her jaw, she cleaned herself up as best as she could.

she went for the mop and as she cleaned her mess, mrs suzanne, her boss, stood in front of her.

“you can’t go on like this” 

“i’m fine” she muttered, keeping her eyes focused on the stenchy floor. her sanity and emotional hold depended on it. 

“no, you are not. the number of shifts you have been taking-” she left the sentence unfinished and shook her head from side to side, disapproving. annie knew. her workload was unholy, yet they really needed the money.

mrs suzanne tried to take the blue mopper away, but she gripped it tighter. annie raised furtively her eyes to meet her gaze, but mrs suzanne was looking away. to the tv, she realized.

“i know you did well” she sighed “but my child, the world is harsh down here. sometimes i think… i think you would be better over there.”

on the tv, queen maeve stood leading the seven. she gave a speech thanking lamplighter’s work and reminding him that although he was good, women are still the essential resource that shapes america. everybody laughed. she wore a shiny costume and her followers behind showed her only love. she is a hero. 

annie’s grip on her mopper tightens. it has a very uncomfortable shape and gave her ugly callouses in her hands that used to hurt. sean used to kiss her hands, ‘hero hands’ he would say smiling. now, they don’t hurt anymore. 

and he had not kissed them in a long time.

maeve tilted up her chin and waved. perfect armor. annie looked down on her stained, old clothes and began mopping the floor.

the show must go on, she had heard her mother say before annie ran away. ran away from the farm, from her delusions of power, from her control. she understood mom well now, but god, how it hurt to not be a hero.

.  
.  
.  
.  
.

like everything in her apartment, the door was old and falling apart. annie’s mouth twisted, thinking of the money she would need to pay for a repair and she had barely closed the door behind her when star jumped into her arms.

she started laughing at her dog’s incessant licks and the day was a bit brighter, a bit better. petting her head, she tried to keep her on the floor. gods, she is getting so big. in the background, a figure leaned against the kitchen/dining room’s door.

“what are you even feeding her?” she asked her boyfriend, ruffling star’s fur around the long ears.

“everything, it seems.” sean replied, making his way to her.

watching him, her heart was full. there was no getting used to him, not even after five years of living together. he is beautiful, she thinks as he put his arms around her waist. annie closed her eyes to his gentle heartbeat, aware of every contour of his body like her own. he kissed the top of her head, and one look told her she didn’t need to voice how tired she felt. 

they stayed in their embrace in the middle of the room, while star ran around and the television was playing some news that didn’t matter at all. 

annie breathed.

she felt sean pushing away, and the moment was gone with a bucket of cold water. far too aware of her rumpled state, she tried to fix her hair and gave a last smile to her boyfriend before she headed to her bathroom. 

a few minutes after, she heard him calling.

“what?” 

“i said, i think this is time for a bit of thai food” he smirked, “run you down the stairs” and bolted to the door. annie grabbed her keys, pushing her body to a limit to forget how she really is feeling exhausted.

sean had a heads up, but she quickly caught up to him at the front of the building. 

“no, no. i won, darling.” he grabbed her hand.

“i call that bullshit” she replied and he started laughing, eyes twinkling, walking fast across the square.

it was dawn, and the streets were empty, as most people had already returned from their work and had not begun to go out to eat yet.

“we can cross here alright, no one is coming” he stepped into the street.

“seriously? what is it with you today? you are so-” sean looked at her and as annie opened her mouth again, she blinked. 

a warm, wet liquid splashed across her face.

she was still holding one of his hands, ripped in such a fashion it looked more like a macabre halloween prop than an actual human body part. she looked around and mouthed his name one last time, but there was no answer. dazed, horrified, sick, annie stumbled backward, and screamed.

he was dead and left as the only souvenir was the hand and all that blood.

.  
.  
.  
.  
.

“you have to ask for an apology” the man insisted.

annie waited in the filthy alleyway behind the coffee shop. she had worn the same rumpled uniform for five days now, and that was the cleanest, the best part of her. customers had begun to complain about her smell since day three, and mrs suzanne took occasional breaks to take her to the bathroom where she tried to wash her with wet toilet papers and napkins while annie cried in her shoulder.

stupid, weak annie cried all the time.

“mr butcher” she repeated, her voice raspy from disuse. “i do not think i am the person you are looking for.”

annie’s body swayed with the wind and she had never felt more lost.

butcher stood in silence for a moment. he took the last puff from his cigar, and seemed to make up his mind. he thought her weak and stupid. pathetic. annie was the scu-

“call me when you are ready, then.”

he handed her a card. 

annie could not process, why to bother so much with her? so she held his darker gaze, and yes, there was rage and impatience there, but there was also despair. one that perhaps could match her own. 

when she took the card, she did it because he understood her.

.  
.  
.  
.  
.

she called in a week when her eyes were set in and she believed she would never be happy again.

butcher showed her the basement and talked about destroying the vought corporation as casually as other people talk about painting walls. people passionate about painting walls.

“–and we, my guys, you and i, will get ‘em. first homelander, then the rest. because they think themselves invulnerable and i know ‘re just full of it.” he finally stopped his rant, as if he waited for annie to reply. she had heard everything and she knew she was in. yet, hearing him talk about all superheroes like that… she thought of maeve on television. how she had felt empowered by her strength.

she had learned the word feminist from her, on an interview. 

annie frowned and slowly shook his head. must they taint every memory, every good thing? they are the fall of every symbol she once held dear. 

“are all of them like that?”

“like our lad a-train, you mean?” butcher kicks the stones around him “the worst sort, heroes are. depraved, immoral and ruthless. they are the bane” he splits saliva in his hatred “of humanity,”

“mom used to say they were chosen by God”

he raised one eyebrow.

“did she, ya? more like those cunts were made by the devil. now that!” he laughed “that i can believe. black noir is an animal, maeve the queen of apathy, deep a perv and an official one at that. translucent is a pain in the butt and a-train” he winced, remembering who he was talking to, and for the first time in the whole afternoon his voice carried enough humanity for one word: “yeah.”

she made a mental count of the heroes and shifted her weight from one foot to the other.

“hold on. homelander has always-”

“he’s got nothing. no vices, no evils, no imperfections. do not let that fool you, he is the worst of the lot. which is why we need to take him out first.” he took one cigarette from the pack, even before lighting out the one in his mouth. he was nervous, his hands moving from one pocket inside that massive coat to another pocket.

when butcher pulled out a small tequila bottle, annie held out at her hand before she could think better of it. she took a sip and felt it burning her throat. off-handedly, she remembered this week’s event- vought’s introduction to the new guy- she could not escape from, it had been screened on every television in america.

“does the new supe’s nice guy act make him horrible as well?”

“sonorus? he might actually have been a nice guy at the beginning. now he is an accomplice, if not more.”

it burned and stung her throat and she needed more.

“he should be next on our hit list.”

.  
.  
.  
.  
.

she had meant to take star for a walk, not to collapse at a park bench.

but butcher’s plans kept growing crazier, frenchie and mm’s fights had escalated from the basement to the first floor, and cherie, her first ally, disappeared into thin air. annie closed her eyes and tried to control the wild rhythm of her heart. breath in, breath out. there are a lot of people around, the sun is shining. breath in, breath out. what was she doing?

torturing translucent.

she shook her head. 

she was shooting a man dead.

no, no. she made a grimace and clenched her teeth until it hurt. no, that’s not what she meant-

she was stealing from popclaw and blackmailing her into compliance.

annie placed her head between her hands and shrank. she made herself small, wishing to vanish, to go where no one else could find her as they did after almost getting caught by the police. coming to the park was foolish, she was foolish, what was she thinking? what was she doing?

she was holding sean’s hand until she was only holding sean’s hand.

she stood up and all the air went out her lungs. 

in silence, in darkness, she forced herself to remember herself. she was annie january. she had a dog, star. she had a mom and a dad she loved but chose to walk away from. she liked singing and the simple life, she was fond of country music (far too much) and midday television programming. she believed God intended people to be good. she used to think she could one day make a change in the world.

she had wanted to be a hero.

she breathed in and out and distantly, she heard someone’s voice. when she opened her eyes, she saw a young man, arm stretched in her direction. his eyes seemed concerned, but he had not touched her. his other hand seemed to be carrying a take out order.

“are you okay? miss, can you hear me?”

it took her a moment to place herself in space and time.

“yeah.” she was coming back “i wasn’t screaming, wasn’t i?”

“no, but”

“that would have been terribly embarrassing” she added in a light tone because the man was still staring at her as if she would faint at any moment. she would not. this was in a big open space, and the colors of the trees and the grass soothed her better than the ones at the cafeteria or her apartment.

“but” he continued and now he was lowering his arm “you looked in the midst of a panic attack.”

“and you are an expert in assisting strangers out of panic attacks?”

he shook his head slightly.

“i’m an expert in having them.”

annie chuckled. he had tan lines on his face and light brown hair in small curls. there was an awkwardness on his stance, but it looked charming on him. especially with the smile he was giving her. 

there was still weight in her chest and numbness in the back of her head, but the sunlight hitting her on the face was gentle and she was in no danger. she just needed direction and some time. she would be fine. 

“no worries” she said.

“sure?”

“i’m sure,” she said and stood up straighter, waiting for him to go off on his way. to eat his lunch or do whatever he was supposed to. he nodded and gave her a quick glance over, before turning around.

he hadn’t gone two steps when he added:

“also, could that be your dog?” he pointed to star, currently running maniacally behind another smaller dog, many trees away from their spot in central park. and yes, annie was no longer holding star’s reigns.

annie swore and swore again, and started running. a moment of hesitation and the man followed her.

he turned to be a lot more fit than he looked at first sight. which was helpful because star proved completely uncooperative. the dog had gone insane with freedom after so many weeks inside the tiny apartment. she chased off after other dogs, people with food, squirrels, and ducks- they both freaked out when star almost grabbed one of the tiniest animals.

annie and the stranger of the park bench were breathless and sweating when they actually caught her and the dog started licking them in return. star was gross and dirty as well, from leaves and mud and trash. much more than should have been for what? fifteen minutes of insanity?

annie thanked her companion and asked him to go and sit on the bench with her again. he had a friendly, easy-going way about him she could appreciate even when running around the park. 

“she is a good girl” he commented, rubbing star’s ears. annie laid back on the bench, already not trying to stop the dog from licking him. it was hopeless.

“she has the city’s restless energy on her.” she frowned “it gets overwhelming at times.”

“i can’t blame you. but we have to keep going to work and do our stuff, for our people, you know.”

she knew and yet she had lost her job and she had no one except herself. the things she had been doing, they did not clear out things from her, just made everything murkier in this ocean she was drowning in.

when she found her voice, it came off low and regretful.

“i guess i have been thinking too much these days.”

he raised his gaze to her and held it.

“look, i know this is nothing of my concern, i’ve probably bothered you long enough by now, but” he stopped and stayed silent. it was a warm autumn day, and the people passing by carried fragmented conversations to them, like stations from a broken radio. little universes of people with their own problems and lives, all living under vought’s empire and the illusion of false safety.

“it’s tough sometimes” he said at last and lowered his head.

annie closed her eyes.

“i miss my family” she found herself saying, and knew it true as she said it. they had been awful to her. mom with her manipulations and dad with his indifference. but now the world had turned its cold shoulder to her, and she had not been prepared for it. her parents had loved her, after all their mistakes, and she had left them with a ripped note on the refrigerator. ‘i took my stuff’ it had read. no goodbyes or sorrys. five years later and she had not once tried to make contact with them. the fear annie felt for her life and theirs, made annie consider her choices and let doubt enter. she had not given them many opportunities, hadn’t she? and now she was so alone. so fucking alone and lost.

the corners of the stranger’s mouth turned down. 

“i understand,” he said, before sighing “i miss being with my family again.”

“did you run away, as well?”

“no. we live in the same house, actually, my father and i.” he struggled with the words, and there were definitely parts he was leaving out, yet she could hardly blame him. they were just strangers on a bench. “my father is fine. it is i who have not been myself in a long time.”

she nodded as if it made a difference.

“you should be yourself.” and gave him a small smile, “after all, you are kind of awesome, mr…?”

hughie, he had said, giving her a pure, unashamed smile as if he didn’t have ghosts and nightmares of his own. i’m just a hughie campbell. 

.  
.  
.  
.  
.

the presenter on the talk show kept laughing, as sonorus simply pulled a bag of doritos from a pouch under his cape and started eating them on live television. 

the presenter tried to stay serious, until he doubled in laughter again.

he reclined, telling a secret to an audience as big and in love as the world was “truth is, i am not really that cool under my mask” he confessed “my secret identity is what lets me hang out with you, cool people. i do it for you.”

he winked and the crowd went wild. the presented was delighted, clapping, and reassuring him he would be loved nonetheless.

for a second, sonorus smile faltered, only to return again in less than a blink.

in front of the television, annie looked at the dorito smile of the hero they were supposed to murder and wondered. but then the vought henchman came out of the office she was going to bug, and she had to sneak in and did not think much of anything but the work of justice.

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.

“what if it had been me, butcher?” annie asked, breathing over his neck as they watched the files on the supes. “would you also be hunting me down?”

he clenched his jaw.

“probably. now, for once, cut the crap, focus on the plan and follow it” he said, the last part articulated slowly. oh, annie rolled her eyes, was he still bitter about the last mission? he hadn’t had almost lost his arm to a vengeful black noir. she who was the spy, who understood the meaning of subtlety and bore the bruises and the most danger while the rest of the team hid in vans or awaited on different buildings. she deserved to be heard.

“no, we don’t need to do this on our own. you already told me they were divided amongst themselves” she tried to get her voice even “divide and conquer, wasn’t that how the saying went? we have got this list and i believe that we can get some of them to help us. listen, if only they saw what vought is, if they understood what they had done, they would lead the revolt themselves.”

annie reached out to the rest of the team, searching for something to hold on to. frenchie wasn’t even paying attention, playing with some sort of liquid in a bottle, and kimiko just looked at her with big sad eyes. mm, however, he was shaking his head.

“it’s too big of a risk.” he said ”the minor ones are always seeking power and staying in graces with the big shots. and the big shots are the ones most corrupted.”

“i am saying” annie tried again. she startled when butcher’s hand came onto her shoulder.

he gave her a mocking grin.

“now you say this. when was your mercy, your consideration, when you tortured them to death?”

“you were glorious” frenchie claimed, in his half-mad half-childish voice, “like starlight.”

“what if i had been born-”

“those assholes were made for-profit, and you would have generated none!”

she banged the table. 

“we should have gone to mallory first! you should have explained everything to me first because you owe me and i am part of this team. not a cheap resource, but part of the team. and let me tell you that you are wrong to see this as some” she choked on her own breath and tried again “some holy crusade against them because they will win if we do not act smartly! we have the list and we can recruit-” she scrambled upon papers.

“have you forgotten all they have done? i sure as hell have not.”

“is that what you think? that i have forgotten my boyfriend’s death and translucent trying to force himself on me in an alleyway? no, no, i remember just fine.” she lowered her voice “all these emotions and yet, i can still see the bigger picture and exert restrain on me.”

mm interceded.

“hold on, guys, guys. let’s calm down” he was looking nervous, his gaze going from the man on his right to the woman on his left. the worst part was, she knew he agreed with her. they had shared doubts together on the first days, but now he would not back her up.

“no, she needs to hear this out.” butcher continued.

“i think you are ready to go back to being a bad waitress in a death-breath place. watching heroes with doe eyes because you will never be one of them, you just wished with all your childish, stupid heart you were.” it hurt and she couldn’t say anything because his wide shoulders blocked the light. the room was a too dim place to be in.

“and it ain’t gonna happen. because there are only humans” a pause, a step forward “and there are monsters.” he was too close now, smelling the smoke from his clothes, from his ragged beard. annie tried not to think of the darkness around her.

“there are killers and there are fighters”

she was trembling.

“are you a fighter?”

she ran.

.  
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.

the church was closed, which was probably from the best. 

she was soaking wet and confused and sad and frustrated and angry.

she fell to her knees in front of the wooden door, rain pouring hard. she could barely open her eyes, but maybe this way is better. she just had to imagine the gates were open and God could see her there, trying. her clothes clung to her skin and her makeup gone, she had no mistakes to hide. 

when she had run away with sean, had she considered all the consequences? she had been sixteen and made of red steel. she had left before last year of high school. calling butcher had felt like the right thing at the time, hell, it still did, but for how long? what if they were wrong in thinking them all irredeemable? what if they were right and what would be the prize of fighting gods using no armor? 

she pleaded for a signal to pick up the damned sword and fight the dragon at once. 

this was her dragon, her opportunity to do what is meaningful in her life like she had felt called to all her life. she couldn’t throw it away because of human doubts and fears. she couldn’t be weak. someone had to be the hero people can believe. for child annie and thousands of others around the world, that was important.

she wanted to be whole and good. 

she felt neither.

“help me. please. i’m sorry”

.  
.  
.  
.  
.

his new yorker accent was unexpectedly soothing. she had called in an impulse, almost two entire days after her break from the group and she was nowhere near resolution. well, she would be going back to the boys (and kimiko) tomorrow, out of duty, and still restless. in a world that offered no answers about right or wrong, it was what she had to do.

hughie began telling her stories about the customers at the retail store he worked, while she made occasional remarks, happy to listen. they had been texting every now and then, a distraction from her insane lifestyle and the loneliness of her apartment. talking with him was easy. hughie was all those things he had seemed at the park, and also funny and thoughtful. 

hughie was good, even if he did not think it himself.

“annie, are you there?”

annie walked to face the window to the street. to see the lights of the cars passing by, the shadows of the buildings around her. feeling small. 

“do you ever feel you did not grow up the way you ought to have had?”

she had barely finished the sentence when regret set in. she was oversharing, again. what was it about hughie campbell that left her bare and bleeding? she wanted no-nonsense talks with him. skip the rules of social life and go straight to life conversations. there was this connection she could not ignore, even though she knew very little about him. but she did not mean to scare him away, she did not want him to go away.

hughie’s laughter was soft over the line. 

“all the time.”

.  
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.  
.

“but you will attack him as a civilian?” she repeated, still confused. her fingers traced the figures on the map of the defense line. the plan was simple enough: they followed the supe to the warehouse checkpoint. he carried no bodyguards with his civilian persona and they just needed to arrive in small waves, make sure they do so on the delivery date and then when he is in, knock him out with a dart gun and immobilize him. 

“we should tape him” she suggested to mm, who was to go in with her. the large man points at the other end of the room, where two small cameras were laying. 

“it’s there” he said. his shoulders went down, before continuing: “look, we need to know you’re not backing away on this one. the warehouse is too close to the police station, we need things to run smooth.” 

she shook her head.

“i may have my doubts, but i am here to stay.”

they continued the plan, making small remarks about the darts’ chemicals and the possibility of a diversion in case enforcements showed up. sonorus was not that great of a fighter, he relied mostly on his vocals, which could be easily fixed. on the edge of the table were the pictures they had gotten from when the supe had thought himself safe. annie slowly brought the pictures to herself and examined them. she stopped at what had to be his civilian self. stopped and felt her heart speeding up.

she blinked, sure she was imagining it, but no, no. she could spot the resemblance even with the mask on. she had been a fool not to notice it before, but then again, she hadn’t been looking too closely.

she pushed the pictures away and tried to go back to the moment. a horrible, sour taste was trapped in her mouth, a heaviness in her chest.

“are you a killer or a fighter?” butcher, who did not seem anywhere near happy to see her, held out the gun in front of her.

sonorus. who ate more doritos (seven bags only on live tv) than what should be healthy and whose alleged father kept putting comments on his fan pages through the internet. hughie was sonorus. whose screams had driven a gang of thieves into committing suicide last week. who not only knew but distributed the v-compound and all the horrors that came with it. who had to be aware of the seven’s crimes and deserved punishment for his silence. 

her nails dug into her own skin, hand closed in an angry fist. anger towards whom? hughie for betraying her, butcher for his vengeance, herself for believing in heroes? for deceiving herself that people would be more than disappointments?

she grabbed the gun, aware of frenchie and mm’s gaze fixed on her.

“i’m a fighter” she declared.

.  
.  
.  
.  
.

“you… are with them” she clutched her chest, her ears still reeling and head still spinning from the inhuman sounds seconds ago. there was no time for this. the rest of the team had gone god knows where and she had tried to save the situation only to have it turned upside down. yeah, they had been right about the date and place. she had shot the other drug dealers dead but then sonorus started screaming and they kicked and fought and there was the screaming. the screaming until the lights came back and her face was exposed.

he dropped to the ground as if it mattered. 

she had shot him, of course, and she ought to give the final shot, but what was it? why couldn’t she just finish him off? he was the scum of society, the worst of the worst. 

“no, no, no” hug- sonorus croaked, holding his bare side, even though his hands and his throat were the ones bleeding from all the wounds. “i had to do it. i never wanted it, please. believe me.”

her lip trembled. 

“believe what exactly? you are a liar and a killer and a monster-” she stepped closer, raising the gun to his temple. but he wouldn’t even look at her. it was his hands he opened and closed, bare over the red-stained ground. the lights flickered inside the warehouse and annie thought she could hear sirens wailing in the distance, perhaps of the police, perhaps of an ambulance.

“please, my father... he is sick. we need the money” his voice was low, powerless in his confession “we actually needed this, i needed this job.”

“you should have left the moment you understood” she pointed to the streets outside “people are dying, you know? and you are the one contributing to all that suffering. to all that pain. if you could not fight them, then the least you could have done is left!”

he raised his head in a sudden movement. his curls were plastered to his face and there were tears running down his face. 

“you think vought will let me go? i have tried. annie- they have my father. i have to protect him. i have to, how- how else would i live?”

she should shoot him now before the pain in her temple became unbearable and she couldn’t think. red, she saw red on the floor and red in the walls. red in her hands and clothes. like a horrific ritual, there was all this blood in circles around them, which she had drawn from others.

“i have nothing, please. i am nothing. they have everything i have.”

she recalled sonorus’ doritos smile, the kindness on his eyes as he comforted a pathetic stranger crying on a bench; and the sadness on them as well. their talks, the half-way promise of a love she could take when she was ready. their kinship, laying naked, too exposed for her to neglect. it went like this: i, too, suffer.

she lowered her weapon and left the path open to him. she heard him standing up, a bit of a small moan of pain rustling through his broken body. annie did not dare to see his face or anyone’s for the matter. she could never wash the dirt from her hands, the impurity from her soul. she could see no face for she had no face.

hughie winced and slowly, he muttered just loud enough for her to hear:

“i am no hero. i want to leave.”

annie said nothing, but god, did she understand.

.  
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.  
.

kimiko and frenchie were asleep as rocks when she left the room. carefully, she opened and closed the door, exerting the least amount of pressure for it not to creak. in the hall, she half sat to put on her tennis and walking to the building’s main entrance and exit, she greeted mm. he held on to the same newspaper he had been reading for six hours. annie didn’t think he had been reading at all. 

she let new york’s breeze hit her face and breathed the freshness, the chaos of the city in. 

butcher had disappeared. cherie was in hiding. popclaw, their blackmailed spy, was dead. the rest of the boys were exhausted and terrified shitless, except perhaps kimoko. but this had never been kimiko's fight and they had no right to ask her. hughie was staying with the seven, who were down to four. he had promised to help, but annie didn't know anymore.

it felt like too much had happened and yet, so many pieces of the puzzle were still missing. were still to happen.

the homelander. their worst enemy had become as wild and unpredictable as a joker card.

and what was she doing? she was packing. 

off to ohio, she guessed. there were two people she had to see, touch and forgive. and mom and dad had to forgive her as well. she could never become the perfect, obedient child they wanted her to be. at the gates of war, they would have to see she was no supe, and she had never needed to be. she had her calloused hands, she had her head and she had her heart. she had her mistakes to rights and a path to go down to. she had a team to recover, a name to rise from the ashes. she had a plan that even if she died in the upcoming weeks, vought and the supes would never win. she had done too much harm to lose.

she would become the hero the world had failed to give her.

**Author's Note:**

> p.d: can people make more aus of annie being the daredevil equivalent of the boys universe? pretty please? 
> 
> thank you for letting me drag you through my mess. kudos and comments give me life, stay safe, readers :)


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